


Ceiling Art

by pyropinkfish



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Light BDSM, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Request filled, Whips, its kind of fluffy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyropinkfish/pseuds/pyropinkfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some request about Michael being the dom and Alex the sub and chains, I didn't do that exactly, but took the basic idea. And I ended it weird, as all my request filled fics go. But honestly, why did Michael pick a room with half naked angels painted on the ceiling? </p><p>Edited and proof read, but still should be noted as a tumblr ficlet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ceiling Art

Michael glanced around the bedroom, the beautiful dark sky enhancing the mood, candles flickering with each strike of the whip whistling through the air. It was all perfect. Which brought a smile to the angel’s face as each lashlanded in a pattern only suited for the Chosen One.

Three lashes just wasn’t enough for the lesson to sink in. Riesen had no clue what he was doing when he cut the punishment short. It wasn’t his place to interrupt the angel. This was between Alex and Michael. A punishment that was long due. One only Michael was suited to give. Something that the angel was persistent on the other understanding. Rules are rules and breaking them causes for consequences. It was simple to say, in practice it was another ball park.

Michael couldn’t lie to himself, he yearned for blood. Something deep rooted in him that thrived off punishment. Being sadistic was just required when you were the Sword of God. When you were to deliver judgment and punishment against your family and the humans, it made it better to _love_ it. 

Michael lived for the thrill of the whip in his hand and the breathy whimpers of his charge spread over his bed. In private he had no shirt, and the lashes that criss crossed against his back with dabs of blood peppering the gashes only enticed the angel to bring the whip down harder. Alex was mouthy. He sassed and challenged and was stubborn. He did things just to piss Michael off. Michael loved every second of it. Loved the sound the whip made in the air, the blood that bubbled when skin was smacked into splitting, the way Alex finally broke into a sob, the sound catching in his throat. A _please_ so close to sliding off his dry tongue.

Michael let the leather slide from his hand, hitting the floor with a thump before he leaned over the other, pressing his own chest against the blood, smearing it. He could feel Alex’s heart beat this way, his breathing, and with a bit of shuffling, he could feel his arousal against his knee.

"You were saying something?" He murmured, a smirk on his lips as he kissed up the other’s neck, using the bed to push off and stand up straight. His shirt was gone, and thankfully too, the blood that smudged on his chest from hugging the other would have stained.

Alex inhaled, it was a sharp noise, straight from the diaphragm. He said nothing. It was fine though, the way his hands fisted the sheets, struggling to keep him leaning over the bed, legs shook and his head bent. It said all Michael needed to know. That didn't stop any taunting though.

"Say it, Alex. I will take mercy on you."

"Bastard…" He panted in reply, the word so weak that if it wasn’t for heightened senses Michael lied about, he would have missed it.

Not wanting to use the whip again, the angel leaned back over, swatting his rear with a strong smack. Enough to send the blond falling against the bed, keeping his cheek pressed against the sheets.

"Oooh... U-Uncle, okay uncle." He groaned and Michael shuffled to lay next to him, though on his back. He turned his head to admire the other’s resilience, and was met with a large grin.

"Do you have to hit so hard?" The human asked, the smile not fading as Michael closed his eyes and smirked back at him.

"I prefer the authenticity. You know your safe word." He retorted calmly, peaking an eye open when he could feel the other shuffle to pull himself close enough for a kiss. A kiss that was happily met with force, Michael’s hand holding on his cheek to guide him into a deeper one. When they parted, Alex still not yet caught his breath, Michael bumped their heads together. “I’m surprised; you lasted a lot longer than I expected.” Which still wasn’t long, disappointingly so. But Alex was still knew to this. Michael was ever the patient saint.

"It’s actually hot when I’m not scared shitless about getting purged." He confessed, then with a wince, forced himself to sit up. Instantly Michael was up next to him, eying his back. He didn’t exactly hold back, the blood dripping down to under his waist line said as much. "Speaking of which, I’m about to bust." He added with a groan, shuffling down his pants. The angel watched with curious eyes, still feeling a sense of euphoria every time he saw the tattoos that thinned down his thighs. Alex caught him staring and self consciously kicked his pants off to the floor, then glanced up For something to distract his eyes with. Only the ceiling got him thinking...

"Why did you pick a room with half naked angels painted on the ceiling?" Michael scowled.


End file.
